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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29479395">Purple Rain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elephantwalks/pseuds/elephantwalks'>elephantwalks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vampire Academy &amp; Related Fandoms, Vampire Academy Series - Richelle Mead</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Carnival, Drama &amp; Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:35:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29479395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elephantwalks/pseuds/elephantwalks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AH/AU: Abandoned by her best friend at a carnival, Rose Hathaway can barely see beyond the torrent of rain to find her way home. That is until Dimitri Belikov anchors her to dry land.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Belikov/Rose Hathaway, Lissa Dragomir &amp; Rose Hathaway, Rose Hathaway/Adrian Ivashkov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Purple Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1</p><p>My eyelids shuttered close, and I came to an abrupt halt in front of the stall of the old-man running the sack races. Breathing deeply as my heart thundered a wild beat, I balled my hands into fists and tried to ignore the flashes of rage and hurt thrashing around inside of me. Small droplets of water streamed down the tan planes of my face and any skin that wasn't covered by my red tank top and black denim shorts. But shit, even my clothes were getting pretty damp now, and it was only a matter of time before I caught a cold. Or worse- pneumonia. Christian will probably laugh his big head off when I coughed up a lung on my death bed.</p><p>Oh well, I thought bitterly, it's not like anyone would miss me. My best friend just deserted me at a run-down carnival in the backwoods of Montana. I'd probably have to ask one of the balloon-tying clowns for a ride home. In the best-case scenario, I'll figure out how so many of them fit in those tiny cars. Worst case, I get abducted to live a life of oily face paint and ginormous shoes. Shifting around in my own, now, I actually wouldn't mind a pair.</p><p>I wish I could say my feet were warm and toasty in my sneakers, but my beat-up converses were soaked; the white canvas now a ruddy brown. Well, Lissa did try to warn me about the rain. I just fluctuated between listening to her nag and debating whether I should splurge on fried Oreos or the bacon cheeseburger with glazed doughnuts buns. With the mood I'm in now, I'll probably get both. Hopefully, they have a chocolate doughnut option for the burger.</p><p>Tilting my face up to the sky, I attempted to pry open my eyes. However, the rain that had collected on my thick eyelashes refused to budge, leaving me blind to the deep purple sky above me. I saw flashes of blood reds and vibrant blues through the thin membranes of my eyelids and sensed an energetic urgency from all the happy children, frazzled parents, and love-sick teenagers. I lowered my head and lazily opened my eyes, the collected pools of rain running in rivets down my face, marking a trail with my smudged eyeliner. I made eye contact with a few of the disgruntled carnival-goers, angry at me for becoming a breathing statue. All of them were forced to make a detour around the crazy 19-year-old girl without an umbrella.</p><p>Well, in my defense, I did bring one (or Lissa did for me anyway). I just accidentally chucked the thing at Christian. It accidentally flew out of Lissa's passenger's window while we were going 70 on the highway. Christian had purposely pointed out my lack of a date and how my current suitors only deigned to come - in both senses of the word- around at night. Lissa screeched at us like a banshee straight out of Hell, but I reasoned with her by reminding her that the sun was currently shinning, and our local weatherman was prone to fucking up.</p><p>Boy was I wrong, I thought, hearing the slushing of my socks as I moved around. I examined the other morons who planned an outing on a day like this. They must have doubted the Chanel 8's weatherman as much as me. Or dreamed of kissing their significant other at the top of the Ferris Wheel like Lissa and hoped they could outrun the impede of rain before they got there. None of them had to deal with their best friend's snarky boyfriend though since most of the people walking around me had umbrellas jutting into the air.</p><p>I shot a grin at a boy about my age who, much like myself, looked miserable. His dark blue eyes widened as he took in my appearance: the troubled brown eyes, smudged mascara, and wet-mop of thick dark brown hair that was plastered to my skull and made my ears stick out like that glorified rat's from that shitty Disney movie. He didn't seem to mind any of that as he took in my curvy body and pretty face. The blonde girl next to him apparently did as she smacked him on the arm before grabbing the umbrella out of his hands. Blondie threw me a glare and marched away in the direction of the Ferris wheel. He ran after her, but not before giving me another once over.</p><p>So much for love-sick teenagers.</p><p>Figuring I caused enough ruckus, I moved under the sack race stand's metal awning. Even here, the mist of the rain managed to collect on my shins and forearms. I honestly doubted I'll ever be dry again. Old-man-Jenkins didn't look up from his book. His bones must have malfunctioned and stopped working with all of this cold weather. Too bad I didn't have any motor oil. Laughing under my breath at my own joke, I looked at the dark purple sky and heavy dark gray clouds with an unobscured view.</p><p>Well, not so unobscured. That fucking Ferris wheel was huge. So huge that its flashing lights turned a few feet of the sky above it into a deep royal purple color. The purple tones flickered in and out, the dark gray clouds appearing to pulsate with the help of the flashing lights. It kind of reminded me of those lights that popped up over Russia and other deathly cold places from time to time. The bright lights of the -surprisingly- functioning Ferris wheel actually bathed everything and everyone in hues of indigo. The rain that gushed down from the heavy clouds even took on a purplish glow.</p><p>My dark eyes roved over the riders in the uppermost tiers, looking for someone I already knew wasn't there. Most of the seats were vacant as most went to take shelter in the few places that had actual coverage - the food vendor stalls that had a waterproof tarp over them or even the bathrooms. However, a few couples thought sucking face in the rain was the epitome of romance. Flicking my eyes to the entrance of the Ferris wheel, I recalled the fight a few moments before my abandonment. Lissa's usually sweet and gentle voice turned guttural and harsh because of her anger. Anger directed all at me. Before I could work myself up again, I took off in search of my entire reason for agreeing to come to this shitty place.</p><p>Food.</p><p>Carnival food to be exact. For an astronomical price, I could pay for a heart attack in a red and white checkered paper bowl. Maybe, shitty is too harsh a description. Depending on how good the food is, I might upgrade it to extremely below average. I knew I should use the cash I brought for a taxi home, but I planned on getting what I came for.</p><p>I wasn't above hitchhiking.</p><p>I wasn't above a lot of things actually now that I thought about it. I took my life a day at a time. Never expecting much from the universe, so the universe will never expect much from me. Being a 19-year-old girl living on her own- I didn't have much to give. So, I wasn't above living in shitty apartments, and working at a diner with pervy truck drivers while wearing skimpy outfits to make ends meet. I wasn't above using their misogyny in my favor. And I definitely wasn't above ignoring my mother for the rest of eternity (maybe a few days after that as well). Shaking my head, I focused on finding the food area, allowing the scent of what I assumed was doughnuts to lead me. Clearly, all of my high school therapy sessions haven't helped me with avoiding unpleasant thoughts.</p><p>And boy, my mom an unpleasant one.</p><p>Not sure where I was going, but knowing my nose will never lead me astray, I followed the sweet smell of baked dough. Chocolate doughnuts could bring me out of my darkest moods.</p><p>I wrapped my arms around my middle and repressed a shiver as I walked down the paved sidewalk of the carnival, making detours around the huddled groups of families. The rain had dwindled down, and people have started to leave their temporary shelters. Squeezing my sides, I attempted to quell my ever-present anger and focus on the food orgasm I will soon be having. And the actual orgasm I will be having when one of my "suitors" comes over to my one-bedroom apartment tonight. Feeling heat pool between my legs, I felt a rush of something other than annoyance and anger for the first time all night. Forgetting my argument with Lissa should be easy. As a matter of fact, I should start getting used to forgetting things that have to do with her.</p><p>Especially with how she's been pulling away from me lately.</p><p>My tumultuous feelings skyrocketed back up. Although the stronger aroma of baked dough stopped me from grabbing a horseshoe from a nearby game and flinging it all the way to Lissa's college dorm room. Hopefully, reaching my target and slamming into her roommate's smirking face. I frowned when I discovered the smell was coming from the stand right across from the horseshoe game.</p><p>I stopped and stared.</p><p>The once blue and white striped stall had faded long ago with time. The colors were now dull, and the building looked like it could be blown away by some big bad wolf. The glass case where the prizes were usually held was empty, but the strong smell of a pillowy soft treat hung in the air. I walked forward and peered into the glass. Nope, not a damn crumb in sight. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of purple, and, lo and behold, I thought, looking up, another sign this place's fumes must not be as appealing to me as it is to others. Or they could have afforded some proper repairs.</p><p>As I eyed the broken neon sign, I realized that my nose did lead me astray. This for sure as hell wasn't the cheeseburger-and-doughnut-hybrid place. This heavenly smelling place was the only food stall that wasn't under the tarp. To be fair, a dark grey awning did hang above the small stand. Except it didn't extend enough to keep any potential customers dry. I wondered if the owner arrived too late or the venue simply didn't have enough space and the bakery's shop owner didn't mind the rain- or lack of customers. Only one of the letters remained lit on the name sign, but the flickering purple indicated that it wouldn't be for long. It wasn't even in English for crying out loud! The bulky letters formed a word that I have no way of pronouncing. No one was- currently- working in the booth, but the smell of some type of bread was strong, and it was coming from this foreign-name-stall.</p><p>I peered into the darkly lit booth, looking for the source of the smell, but finding no food and, sadly, no sign to direct me to the food. The other vendors around here were all busy- selling things from fried butter to fried pickles but the fragrance of the bread obviously was compelling. To me, at least, but I've always liked weird foods. I even put ketchup on a taco once. Hell, I probably looked like Jerry smelling that cheese in that one episode of Tom and Jerry.</p><p>I debated waiting for the owner of this stall and wondering which episode of Tom and Jerry the whole cheese thing happened when I felt a presence behind me. I tensed up and swore. Not knowing that today was leave Rose to her own devices day, I saw no need to bring my pepper spray or mini knife. I will just have to kick ass the old fashion way- with nothing but my bare hands and quick wits. It wasn't that much of a daunting task, I thought, my heart speeding up as I felt the presence behind me almost pulsate. I did break a girl's arm back in my freshmen year of high school. Spinning around to confront the creep, a few tendrils of wet hair stuck to the side of my neck. And my breath stuck in my chest.</p><p>I was in the presence of an actual God. Well, not an actual God, but someone I would be happy to worship.</p><p>The remnants of my anger vanished as my eyes met chocolate brown ones - eyes with amber and gold. A man stood before me. And boy, what a man he was. His hair was free and hanging around the sharp angles of his jaw. The bleak light flashed from the sign above us and painted his face in shadow, momentarily concealing his eyes and deepening the lines of his jaw. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties with the beginnings of creases forming at the corners of his eyes. The same eyes that were dancing around my face to the wet hair stuck to my head. My eyes flicked from his to the food storage container in one of his large hands. The scent of the baked dough filling my senses. Clearly, this tall demigod was packing up for the day. I wonder if he'll give me a discount. Or if I can use some of my feminine wiles to get it for free. With the way his eyes were now devouring every crevice and feature on my face, I'm sure we could work something out. Or he could be some type of psycho, wanting to saw off my face and wear it as a mask or something. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to steal my good looks.</p><p>Forgetting my eagerness for food for a moment, I took in his broad shoulders and the long leather coat that I think was called a duster. Oh boy, I'm getting turned on by a modern-day cowboy. One so hot I almost forgot about my quest for food.</p><p>Almost. I mentally patted and promised my bottomless stomach food soon. Hoping it doesn't growl in the presence of the food that it was compelled towards and disrupts the most intense silent match of the 21st century. The gorgeous cowboy will never agree to fuck me then, well, I doubt he would with the way I looked now- soaking wet with runny makeup. The only reason he was probably staring at me now was to decide if he should call the psych ward to lock up some crazed-looking girl who missed the memo that his store was closed.</p><p>I could only hope that the poor carnival lighting concealed how fucked up I looked.</p><p>I uncharacteristically shifted my feet, creating a squelching noise with my shoes. I cringed as his eyes flew down to my muddy shoes. One of his eyebrows quirked up, and I couldn't help but feel a small flash of envy. I've never been able to do that no matter how many hours I spent practicing in Lissa's bedroom mirror. But hey, she did get a laugh out of the weird faces I made.</p><p>I wasn't sure if I should back away from this sexy stranger or get closer to the heady aftershave fragrance of him. Well, and get closer to the sweet doughy smell. That was what drew me here in the first place. I hope all of those scents drowned out mine. But who the hell was I kidding. Nothing could drown out the smell of wet dog. And from walking around in the rain all day, I knew I stunk like if I had a starring role in a 101 Dalmatians and Singin' in the Rain crossover movie.</p><p>What can I say? I've always been the belle of the ball.</p><p>His soft lips were twitching as if he were about to say something or smile or even laugh. His eyes suddenly snapped back to my face, his warm eyes staring into mine. A warm, tingling sensation spread from my fingertips all the way up to my chest, growing as I felt my cheeks heat and heartbeat a staccato rhythm. Oh hell, I was blushing. All because some alarmingly handsome man was looking at me. And that's all that he did. He just looked at me- and looked and looked. He seemed just as stupefied by my appearance as I was by his. Honestly, I could count on one hand the number of times I was left speechless without a witty remark prepared to simultaneously amuse and annoy. The man before me was huge, taller than me by a foot, so tall that the umbrella he held above his head also covered me- protecting me from the rain for the first time all night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: All characters belong to Richelle Mead. The author of the wonderful series Vampire Academy</p><p>The story is inspired by the song Purple Rain by Prince.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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